Drifter stood with his spine straight, spear tucked away on his back, arms crossed in front of his chest. His expression was carefully neutral.
Yuna and Nautilus stood at his side. The rest of the Reavers were out leveling.
Today was the day the 51st floor would be opened to regular players. Already, a pair of KoB clearers was stationed next to the teleporter, just waiting for his order. Over the next week, there would always be a couple of frontline guild players rotating in the position, to ensure that, if by some ungodly coincidence, someone hadn't heard about the new update yet, they were warned.
Technically, Drifter and his two friends didn't need to be here. One of the 'guards' could unlock the teleporter with no problems.
But they were there anyway. Because Drifter was curious. Who and how many would come? Certainly not everyone. But would the frontliners have to walk truly alone from now on?
"Do it."
Under his order, one of the KoB players stepped forward and put his hand against the teleporter. After swiping and clicking a couple times, the entire structure flashed bright blue, signaling the 51st floor was now officially open.
Flash!
Not even 30 seconds later, the teleporter shone blue and a tiny figure stepped through. Argo the Rat gave the three Reavers a quick hug and a nod before vanishing down the streets of the safe zone.
More followed after. Akari and her guildmates, who disappeared without so much as a hello beyond a quick look. And then larger groups, bearing the colors of the frontline guilds.
Dragon Knight Brigade, Knights of the Blood Oath, and more. Clearers and non-combatant members of those guilds, who had yet to climb to the 51st floor, gave their surroundings wary glances before leaving according to previous orders.
And then there was silence for a long time. 10, 20, 30 minutes went by with nary a gust of wind blowing through the teleporter.
Just when Drifter was about to call it a day, unable to shake off the feeling of disappointment and resignation, the teleporter lit up again.
Two hesitant players stepped through, a pair of clearers who Drifter was somewhat familiar with. He didn't see the rest of their guild, but it was a start.
The frontliner gave the duo an encouraging nod and half-smile. They returned it shakily, and this time, when the spearmaster turned around, he didn't hesitate.
"We are leaving already, dummy?"
"No time to waste. Now that someone who's not part of our guilds' taken the first step, others will follow."
"Not everyone."
Nautilus commented lightly, fiddling with the strap of his shield. Drifter sighed.
"Not everyone. But we just really need two hundred or so clearers on the floor to keep up our pace. More is always better, obviously, but we can't really go much faster than 2 weeks per floor if we want our levels and gear to stay on top."
"And we would be risking missing out on vital intel."
"That too."
The spearmaster nodded in agreement with his wife.
"There are 6.000 people left in Aincrad. As long as a couple hundred of them help with the clearing, I'm happy."
"And do you think they will?"
Nautilus had always been the skeptical to Yuna's optimism, although Drifter oftentimes also fulfilled that role. The Songstress stuck out her tongue.
"Think positive, Naut! We aren't the only strong ones in SAO! Players who made it this far are resilient! Sure, not everyone is going to climb this high, but I believe more people than either of you two expect will!"
The ash-haired young man raised his hands in mock surrender, and Drifter chuckled, slipping an arm around his wife's waist and kissing the side of her head.
"I am sure you are right, songbird."
...
Turns out she was, although only partially. In the week the frontliners monitored the 51st floor teleporter, a grand total of 488 players, excluding frontline guilds and associates, came through.
Over 200 of those experimented with the pain and backed down immediately. Another 60 or 70 endured for a couple of days before they too decided to retreat.
In the end, just about 180 players settled in on the new frontline of Aincrad.
In other words, even when adding the 100-some frontliners and the clearer and non-combatant members of their guilds, only about 400 players were currently exploring the 51st floor.
400 out of 6.000. As for the rest, you might as well consider them as having given up climbing and trying to clear SAO.
It was a disheartening number, but also expected. The frontliners were too jaded by now to be affected by such a thing. After all, it wasn't like the future of Aincrad had ever rested anywhere but on their shoulders.
On a side note, whenever the frontliners went to the lower floors to grind some materials or on an errand, they were witness to a lot more lowered heads and ashamed gazes.
Drifter ignored those. He wasn't going to blame anyone for being afraid or not wanting to hurt and feel pain.
But he also wasn't going to coddle them and whisper sweet lies in their ears, no matter how much they wanted to hear it. If they didn't have the guts to sacrifice and fight when their own lives were on the line, then he also wanted nothing to do with them.
It was a matter of mentality, not strength. The clearers, Fuumaningum's role-players, and the other souls who went to the 51st floor - and stayed. They might not all be strong enough to face-off against floor bosses, but they had the will to take the reins to their own future and fight for it.
Take Reaver's Requiem for example. Keita, Sachi and Tetsuo weren't frontliners. Truth be told, they were barely clearers - while they had the heart for it, other than Keita, the other two's skills were having a harder and harder time to keep up the higher they climbed.
And yet, none of the 3 had hesitated to come to the 51st floor even before it was open to the public. The deaths of Sasamaru and Ducker, Shigio's fate and the war against Laughing Coffin, the addition of pain - none of it dulled their resolve.
"Ahh..."
Thinking of the trio only made Drifter sigh. They were a constant source of worry for him. Everything was, lately.
He was carrying too much on his back, and he knew it, but what could he do? It wasn't like there was anyone else who could relieve him from that burden.
Correction: there were others who were just as capable of shouldering it, but they also had their plates full. Kirito, Asuna, Lind, Shivata, Heathcliff, Orlando, Klein, they all were overworked already with leading their respective guilds or helping with it.
Argo and Akari were also running themselves haggard trying to stretch their information network over 50 floors. And the rest of the frontliners and clearers were out there, day in and day out, gritting their teeth through pain and injury to explore the floor.
"How are you feeling, Drif?"
The spearmaster tilted his head back, letting it rest on the edge of the tub, and looked at Yuna, who was approaching him while covered only with a towel.
"Tired."
Yuna's beautiful face scrunched up in a grimace, though she hid it quickly. Divesting herself of the towel, she stepped into the tub with him, settling between his legs and resting her back on his chest while his hands naturally came around her waist to pull her closer.
"You are taking on too much at once, dummy. You will run yourself into the ground."
The spearmaster closed his eyes, putting his chin on her neck and breathing in her scent.
"What other option do I have?"
Yuna had nothing to say to that. She simply closed her eyes too and sighed, leaning further into him.
The couple enjoyed their closeness for a while. Despite being married for over a year now, Drifter still found himself falling in love with Yuna all over again whenever they experienced moments like this.
"It will get easier soon enough, songbird."
"You truly believe that?"
"I've decided to accept Kibaou's proposal."
Her eyes opened slowly, and she twisted her body so she could raise her head and look at him.
"That means you will have to talk to him."
Drifter snorted.
"Yeah, that appeals to me just as much as you think."
To say Drifter and Kiabou's last encounter had been heated was an understatement. Not even a few minutes after the 25th Massacre, the spearmaster had been very clear on the fact he never wanted to see the Challenger again.
And yet, here they were.
"You can't kill him."
Were they talking about anyone else, Drifter would have laughed it off as a joke. Him, Broken Spear Drifter, killing someone who wasn't a red player?
Actually, now that he thought about it, maybe he couldn't just laugh it off. If was 20 or so floors before, sure. But after Laughing Coffin... Drifter had a very different outlook on the value of a life nowadays.
Of course, he still wouldn't ever hurt an innocent person. But Kibaou was far from that.
"I'll control myself. But unless he really changed a lot like Argo said, I'll take his plan and kick him to the curb. I would rather take a frontliner off the Assault Team to lead this new police force than let Kibaou raise it into another ALS."
Yuna stared at him, picking apart his intentions. Her husband would never lie to her - but sometimes he lied to himself.
"Hmm."
Satisfied with what she found, the Songstress adjusted her position again, laying her head sideways on Drifter's chest.
"When do you plan on talking to him? I'll go with you."
"Thanks, love. No sense in wasting time. I'll confirm it with Lind, Heathcliff, and the others tomorrow, and ask Argo to set a meeting the day after."
"In that case, why not wait a couple days. It should be enough time."
Drifter opened one eye.
"Enough time for what?"
"To finish setting up our place. I think the talk will go much better in our home ground."
Now he was openly staring at her, but Yuna stubbornly kept her face hidden in his chest, so all he could see was her soft brown hair. He had the distinct impression she was smirking, however.
"Songbird... What aren't you telling me?"
"Well, remember how you went with Naut, Sinon, Yuuki, Griselda, and Silica to explore the south portion of the floor today?"
"Certainly. Damn swamp. As if the mist wasn't bad enough."
"Yeah, well, that isn't such a problem in the north, where I went with Kirkto and rhe others today. In fact, the mist over there is quite beautiful, in a sorrowful way."
"And that's a good thing?"
Drifter raised an eyebrow, but he could imagine what she was talking about. One thing the players couldn't complain about Aincrad were the scenarios. Each was more stunning than the last, and impossible to exist in the outside world.
"I'll take you to see it tomorrow. There's a lake and a waterfall, it's very pretty. And also for sale."
Ah. So that was what she meant.
"A guild base, hum? Well, it's about time. How much?"
"About that..."
Yuna squirmed in his lap, evoking very conflicting feelings. He blew into her ear and she shuddered.
"How much?"
"We have enough."
"So I don't wanna know. Got it."
Yuna finally looked up at him, a pout forming on her lips. Honestly, that was unfair. She knew he always caved when she made that face.
"It's a good deal! You'll see!"
"I believe you."
"We need a place of our own."
"We do."
"This isn't just our little party anymore, we got nearly 20 people."
"Yup."
"You know we aren't that pampered that we can't keep living night by night in inns like this, gods know we've been doing it for 2 and a half years."
"We have."
"But also, it would be nice to have our own headquarters."
"It would."
"DKB, KoB, even the Braves have that building on the 42nd."
"They do."
"I'm just saying, I wouldn't say no to having a room we could call ours. Preparing our own meals, decorating, just owning something. I might make us feel more human."
At that, Drifter stopped with the two words responses, the amused smirk he had been wearing fading slowly.
Gently gripping Yuna's hips, he raised her and spun her around so she was now straddling him, their faces just centimeters apart. His gaze searched hers knowingly.
That shaking in her pupils - it was familiar. He cupped her cheeks and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.
"We will take everyone and have a look tomorrow. If it's really as beautiful as you say, we can buy it. You are right, it's about time we settled down."